A Lesson in Patience

These long summer days give me a lot of time to wonder and, lately, I have been wondering if my new-found high level of patience (usually) will continue in America's work culture. Will I stay calm and collected when a deadline is missed, placing trust in my fellow man to do his job, or given a seemingly impossible deadline, believing I can meet it? When something unforeseen happens, will I accept it, handle it, and move on? I sure hope so despite a recent event and my reaction.

The patience I sorely lacked growing up has slowly come to me during my long stay here. The last 23 months have taught me more about frustration and patience than any other experience. Sure, I have fought battles I should not have. They were losing battles before I arrived and they will be losing battles well into the future, decades after I have left. I have fought the occasional winnable battles, triumphing in some and not in others. Trying to set a firm meeting time can be the week's biggest frustration. While negotiating and trying to narrow down a meeting's start time to a 2-hour time frame, internally, I just want to cry out "set a firm start time like Western, civilized countries do" thinking this little outburst comparing cultures will help me. For the sake of all those involved and my relationship with community counterparts, I am able to refrain from these ruinous remarks. It is these times that teach me how to be patient, to stay calm and collected, and to smile like everything is going to be okay—I may not believe it to be at that moment but eventually, things will be okay.

Patience does prevail and more often than not, I find things that would have bothered me or gotten under my skin in the States do not do so here. When ants crawl near my head while I sleep, I calmly pick up my mattress, mop the floor, and fill in the holes in the wall with an ant-killing blue powder. And I silently endure all the harassment—the catcalls, the rocks, etc. I just go about my daily business no matter how degraded I feel. And when salsa spills ruining a $50 polo shirt, I just shrug and move on. This is the attitude and approach I want to take back to America.

So what happens during one of my ponderings about patience, and flight or fight: I see a rat sneak through the cracked door, a confident swagger into my bedroom.

Do I react rationally and calmly by trying to corner the rat or gently push it out the door? No, I hurriedly closed the door and ran to my host family's. No one was available so I timidly returned to my house and notice that I had not fully closed the bedroom door. Realizing the rat could be anywhere in my house, I curled into the fetal position on the couch and sent SOS emails. Responding to nature's call, I got the courage to leave the couch. As I am about to flush water down my Turkish toilet, I see the rat—I sure as hell hope it was the same rat—stick its' head out of the toilet. I screamed, threw an entire bucket of water down the hole and plugged it with a spare water bottle.

My scream brought Naima running to the window. She asked what was wrong and unable to hold it in any longer, I broke down. Between sobs, I tried to explain that there was rat in my bathroom. Without knowing the word for rat, I started to describe it and got as far as "there was a thing in my bathroom that was small like a kitten but it was not a kitten." Naima immediately understood and tried to reassure me that it was gone and would not come back. Not convinced and still terrified there could a rat in the house, I unsuccessfully tried to sleep and headed to Azrou the first chance I could. I can honestly say I have never been more scared in my house than the next morning when I had to pee.

During an 18KM hike yesterday, I mentioned the rat scare to other volunteers. One asked if I immediately ran to my host family's and when I replied "of course" she said that was exactly what she would have done. If she said that purely to give me a little comfort, it worked. Still wondering how I was going to go to the bathroom in peace, I got very valuable advice from a local. I returned to my house later in the day and poured a half-liter of hydrochloric acid down the toilet.

Thanks to the mental health break in Azrou, the hike with other volunteers, and a strong chemical, I woke feeling refreshed and eager for coffee and the Sunday papers. My flight or fight response failed me this time but I still have 100 days to ponder, reflect, and work on patience and the ability to stay calm and collected when problems arise.

Today I Say...

Lhamdullah for NPR, its' podcasts and free Newport Folk playlist. And to Wana for ability to download all these in the comfort of my own home without which none would have been possible.

In the Here and Now

With less than four months to go in Morocco, it is a constant struggle to stay present in my life here. Work is coming to an end. Summer is brutal. Ramadan is looming.

I have recently returned from a long vacation in England and Ireland. It was blissful walking through the streets of London, reading in the parks, soaking up the great outdoors in the Lake District, and drinking Guinness while listening to Irish folk in the pubs. Towards the end of the trip, I had the realization that no one had whistled at me, or honked, or said inappropriate phrases. A sad realization, really, because I knew I had to return to Morocco where verbal harassment is commonplace especially in the summer. This was confirmed when I didn’t even make it out of the train station in Meknes before inappropriate phrases came my way.

I so much want to enjoy my last 121 days here. I really do. I want to live in the present soaking up early evening tea dates, taking advantage of summer’s stillness to read, and finishing up the PCPP reporting. But all I can do is think about what happens 122 days from now…

the loooong summer days

Summer is here and so far so good. In these long hours of daylight, I have found many ways to keep myself busy. And in just 5 short days I will be with Mom and Ellen in London!

But before I leave for London, one big thing needs to be accomplished. My PCPP grant needs to be filled. I am $288 away from my goal! Any amount of money you are willing to contribute to this worthwhile and deserving project is greatly appreciated!!! The link to donate: https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=378-112

More information about the project and the Peace Corps Partnership Program:

For much of the past year, I have been working towards the implementation of computer literacy classes in my village. I wrote a Peace Corps Partnership Proposal to fund the first 6 months of classes. How does the PCPP program work? Volunteers write proposals and once they are approved, the projects are posted online. Friends and family back home can go online, donate to the project, and receive a tax-deduction. The volunteer's project is funded and those who donate receive a tax-deduction. Its a win-win situation for everyone.

The first computer class was held in March. Throughout, the project has had its fits and starts but to see the women go to class 4 days a week, several hours a day and work hard, makes everything worthwhile. The women have learned the ins and outs of the entire Microsoft Office package, blogging, as well as other personal and professional development activities.

If you would like more information, please send me an email and I would be happy to supply you with the full proposal!

Edit: The PCPP has been fully funded!!! Thank you to all those who donated. It means a lot to me and the women!

My Trail Runs!

Without a doubt, the best thing I did this past month was start running on the trails behind my house. And I want to share them with you! Now these are not the rocky, root-laden single track trails the hard-core prefer but they work for me. So without further ado, here is a little picture tour of my running route:


The start of the trail about 5 minutes from my house


Turn right onto this trail


And follow it as it winds around town (total mileage out: between 1.5 and 1.6 miles)

I am running a few times a week, including a long run to build distance and endurance (I got to be able to stay up with Dad in the UK). After neglecting my fitness for the last 21 months, I am slowly starting to get back in shape. My hope is to reach a manageable fitness level, maintain it, and then when I get back to Panama City, build on it. No more excuses!

On Graduation

Before I delve into my thoughts about life and current events, let me first say congratulations to Katherine. My little sister graduates from high school today—congratulations! Last year, she came to Morocco and spent a month with me. Not many 17 year olds would have done that. She adjusted to the turk, lack of reliable running water, and the harassment remarkably well. Not afraid to reach outside the box, she handled Morocco’s ups and downs with grace. Now, she heads off to college for more adventures, more ups and downs, and more exploring.

Since it is graduation season, there is so much talk about public service whether it is from congressmen, celebrities, or our President himself. The writer Paul Theroux recently wrote an article about how his Peace Corps experience has affected the rest of his life. Not too long ago, I read Dark Star Safari, a great travel writing memoir about Theroux’s adventures traveling from Cairo to Cape Town. This was his first return to Africa in more than 30 years and throughout the book, he reminiscences and reflects on Africa, Peace Corps, and development in general. Several of the points he made struck home with me and this article hits even closer: http://www.concierge.com/cntraveler/articles/500616 I do take issue with one point though. Today’s PCVs cannot call home whenever they want. It still does not work like that. And for what it is worth, I have met several returned PCVs who say it is harder to be a PCV now because we grew up in a world of increased communication and to suddenly be away from that is more of a challenge than disappearing for 2 years like back in the 60s.

And, finally, today starts the 6-month countdown. In 6 months, I bid Morocco goodbye. I have come so far and yet not far enough. Just in the last couple of weeks did I get the courage to attempt running in broad daylight in my conservative Berber village. With the local government’s permission, I have begun to conquer the trails behind my house. And it feels so good. With 6 months to go, the work projects are winding down and the travel is about to start up again. I am feeling increasing pressure to cross items off my “Morocco To Do” list. I have done a lot but there is still more to do.

Summer Is Just A Part Of The Cycle

Well, folks, it seems like summer is quickly approaching and I am trying really hard to not have a repeat of last summer. Those months were the worst part of my time here. They should have been great because my parents and sister came for an extended amount of time but the harassment and lack of work was almost unbearable. This time around, I am determined not to let summer's evils get me down.

I have such conflicting notions about summer. On one hand, I like that each passing day means I am closer to seeing my family. On the other hand, I am not excited about the steadily-increasing harassment.

On one hand, I am closer and closer to my fabulous European vacation with my previously-mentioned family. On the other hand, it's hard to stay positive during wedding season.

On one hand, I inch closer to my COS date (November 20, 2009). On the other hand, I am nearer to the day that I must say goodbye to the place I have called home and the people who have taught me so much the last almost-2 years.

Yes, time is bittersweet.

Right now, though, there is so much to enjoy. The ground is soooo green. So green, in fact that at times, it looks fake. The computer literacy classes that have been my main focus the last 5 months are going extremely well. The women are enjoying themselves and going beyond their pre-defined limits. In my entire time here, this is the one work project that has given me the most excitement. It is what sustains me and will continue to sustain me for the next 6 months. Without the classes and these incredible women, I seriously doubt I would still be here.

Last year at this time was when I started to have my first feelings of cynicism and bitterness towards Peace Corps and Morocco. Since then, these feelings have followed an up and down cycle. Truthfully, it is good for me to show a bit of cynicism and speak with a hint of bitterness. This means I have truly lived in another culture: the experience of the honeymoon phase with all its ignorance, the gradual loss of that ignorance and the internal conflicts it creates, the sloooow acceptance of the cultural norms and customs, and the difficult job of achieving the balancing act necessary to solve the internal conflicts. Some days, I find the perfect balance and some days, I do not.

On the surface and in books, it seems like all these cultural ups and downs are parts of a cycle and eventually, everything will come full circle. In reality, there is so much more to the circle. You cannot go back to the beginning. That would be like forgetting all the trials and tribulations, the triumphs and disappoints of my service. This is the thinking I take into summer while continuously trying to remind myself that summer is just another part of the cycle so take the good with the bad and smile along the way.